In Which Purgatory is a Footlocker
by Rhiw
Summary: From where he knelt, Adam Milligan sighed, leaning back on his heels as he looked around with no small measure of bewilderment. He was in a shoe store. Not just any shoe store, a Footlocker. The same one he'd worked in high school. One-shot, post 5.22.


Written during breaks from trying to crank out a chapter for my other fic. I've always loved Adam. Hope you guys like. One-shot. Post 5.22

_Cover Art belongs to **Gregory-Welter** on deviantart, titled little adam._

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><p><strong>In Which Purgatory is a Footlocker<br>**

From where he knelt, Adam Milligan sighed, leaning back on his heels as he looked around with no small measure of bewilderment. He was in a shoe store. Not just any shoe store, a Footlocker. The same one he'd worked in high school. The same one that Adam swore he'd burn down one day if he ever got the enough balls.

"Excuse me!" The girl in front of him snapped angrily, "Are you going to put it on or just stare at my socks? Pervert."

Biting back a sigh, Adam carefully slid on the running shoe. As his fingers expertly flew through the laces, he couldn't help but think that Michael had one hell of a weird sense of humor. He stood, sending the girl a wan smile before gesturing to the small shop.

"Try walking around it in. See if it feels right." The girl nodded and stood, rolling back and forward on the balls of her feet with a thoughtful look on her face. Adam gestured to the small counter, tucked away in the back left corner of the store. "If you need anything, I'll be over there."

Adam made his way behind the counter, sitting down on the bar stool behind it loudly. The thing creaked – just as he remembered it always did – and shook a bit but held his weight. He settled in for the long hall, resting his forearms against the glass counter as he watched the girl roll slowly back and forward, again and again.

The girl - Kristin McGee – was beginning to walk around the store in slow, steady steps. Adam watched blank face. Kristin was beautiful at this age (she was still beautiful two years later but she lacked the…glow she'd had in high school). When Adam had been seventeen he'd all but worshiped the ground she walked on. He'd even damn near killed himself jumping off the high school roof when he was senior to get her to go to prom with him. She'd turned out to be a gigantic, vindictive bitch. But hey, hindsight's 20/20 and all that junk. She was still pacing the store and Adam sighed, reaching under the cash register and pulling out a black sharpie. He began to doodle across the glass counter.

He had no idea how long he'd be left here this time. Last time it had felt like years. Years and years of just watching Kristin walk slowly around the store, occasionally stopping to ask if he had the shoes in baby blue.

It got like this sometimes, when they became bored of him. It was mostly Micheal's doing. Lucifer was more than willing to leave him wreathing on the cage floor, inside out in all his glory. It was almost awe inspiring, how many different things could be done to a human body before it broke. Adam had been violated in ways that he never even could have imagined before coming down here. But the human soul was a remarkable thing. No matter what was done to him, his soul chugged on and slowly – so friggin' slowly – he would always come back to himself.

But sometimes, like now, Michael seemed to take pity on him. It didn't quite make up for the times the white wing had sat about, watching his brother with freakishly intense eyes as the other had taken his frustrations out on the only remaining human. In front of him, Kristin was still rocking back and forth, a contemplative look on her face. Adam had been here before.

Teenage purgatory.

More often than not he thought about his mom or John, allowing himself to remember the good times they'd had together. But as always, the image of his mother eaten and destroyed by those sick things would enter his mind and Adam would have to push all thoughts of his parent's away before it lead him to worse thoughts – like the memories of his own death.

A part of him wondered what his newly found brothers where doing up there – if they even remembered he was here. Not that Adam really expected much, they had only known about each others existence for a few, incredibly brief moments. He didn't blame them for abandoning him…Adam wasn't sure what he'd do in their position either. But a part of him, a small part that was growing smaller every day, still kinda hoped…

"Uh, excuse me? Question here." Kristin announced sharply, her beautifully plumped lips pulled in a decisive frown as she glared over at him.

He paused mid letter, leaving an awkward half-finished, bubblefied version of Dean's name on the glass, a deep feeling of knowing dread pooling in his stomach. "Yes?"

"Do you have these in baby blue?"

"No." Adam answered flatly before attacking the half formed name, making it one thick black block on the glass.

"Are you sure?" Kristin pressed, clearly annoyed by his lack of attentiveness. "Can't you, you know, go check the back?"

With a groan Adam let his head fall against the glass with a thick, echoing thud sound. He didn't care that he was probably going to end up with the majority of his doodles reprinted onto his face. It wasn't real anyway. But goddamn, he'd never hated this girl more than he did right now. Terrible break-up included.

"You know, the customer service here is terrible."

Adam let out a short bark of a laugh. "Sweetheart, you have no idea."

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><p>Because I've always sort of thought Adam got the raw end of the deal.<p> 


End file.
